As the title indicates, this book is a study of the evolution and characteristics of historical writing in Venezuela. It is a collection of writings by Venezuelan historians of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries edited and introduced by Germán Carrera Damas of the Central University of Venezuela. The introduction sets the tone of the work, but the editor is not without conscience and his selections give divergent views concerning the science and art and philosophy of history. There is a great deal of stimulating material in this work and it contains lessons which are not limited to Venezuela but which have wider application.

Carrera Damas affirms that historiography has been a neglected subject in Venezuela. This situation exists partly because of a lack of interest and partly because of such factors as inadequate research tools and techniques, popular prejudice, and political conditions. The lack of orderly archives and manuscript collections demonstrates, to the editor’s mind, the basic disregard on the part of Venezuelan historians for careful research and documentation. Many of Venezuela’s early historians, such as Rafael María Baralt, based their work upon inadequate research, even upon single sources, which themselves were of questionable accuracy. Moreover, literary style and the use of the anecdote have been regarded as fair substitutes for sound methods. These sentiments are echoed in several of the selections, but an excerpt from Diego Carbonell, Escuelas de historia en América (1943), is the most frank.

The felonies of careless techniques have been compounded by a concentration upon certain periods and personalities to the neglect of others. Carrera Damas refers to a “poverty of historical themes,” and he is strongly supported by José Luís Salcedo-Bastardo in an essay entitled, Críticas a la historiografía tradicional (ca. 1955). Salcedo-Bastardo observes that the twenty-year “Independence” period (1811-1830) of Venezuelan history has enjoyed greater attention than all other historical periods combined. Moreover, within that period he notes a disproportionate interest in military events. Battles and generals crowd out political themes, to say nothing of social, economic, or cultural aspects. The essay is even more critical of the “cult of the hero.” Just as George Washington had his Mason Locke Weems, so has Simón Bolívar been the victim of idolatry or what Saul Padover has called “herocide.” The hagiolatry of such Venezuelan writers as Rafael María Baralt, Eduardo Picón Lares, Vicente Lecuna, and Fernando González has surrounded the Liberator in legend and rendered any criticism of him as un-Venezuelan. Neither Carrera Damas nor Salcedo-Bastardo appear to be irresponsible idol-smashers, but they do seek to restore the Bolívar of flesh and blood. They see a need to extend the scope of Venezuelan historical study and to rescue it from the heavy influence of Carlyle.

However, emotional factors alone are apparently not responsible for these conditions. The National Academy of History, with authority to approve historical textbooks and to use public funds to publish historical works, has been dedicated to the heroic figure, including Bolívar, José Antonio Páez, Antonio Guzmán Blanco, and even Juan Vicente Gómez. For this reason, many of today’s Venezuelan historians repeat the litany, “From Academies, good Lord deliver us.” Carrera Damas notes, futhermore, that historical writing has had a “close relationship with the public power.” Under such circumstances objectivity can be hazardous. This work, however, attests that the political climate in Venezuela has greatly improved.

There are other indictments that Carrera Damas makes concerning Venezuelan historiography, but it may be concluded that he and others such as Salcedo-Bastardo are not merely passive critics. They are critical of the traditional history and seek to make historical writing more meaningful. However, there is something about their mood that is disturbing. In seeking to broaden their horizons, they mark for future study such topics as, “the imperialist penetration,” or more specifically, “the petroleum exploitation and its consequences.” When they go over this material, they will find things about which Edwin Lieuwen has written. It is to be hoped that they will maintain the objectivity and tolerance that they profess to esteem, but the titles of their topics reveal attitudes that are not absolutely scientific. This book, therefore, has significance for more than historians, because it is another example of the ferment of Latin America today. Nevertheless, with the reservations noted, a good start has been given to Venezuelan historiography.